


The Games We Play

by lavellanxx



Category: A Courtesan of Rome (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 15:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18594397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavellanxx/pseuds/lavellanxx
Summary: Antony reflects on what Xanthe had told him.





	The Games We Play

**Author's Note:**

> just wanted to get inside antony's head in chapter 15.  
> shameless tumblr plug @marc-antonii

Xanthe was raving and mewling next to Antony like a cat in heat. Her long braids draped over his arm as her hand clawed up and down his chest, that heavy stench of rose flooding up to his senses. Her dress teased at her body, that flush and plump flesh, but she ruined it by _talking_.

And worst of all, she wasn’t _her_.

He thought of soft lavender, mixed with scents of oak and honey. He thought of dark curls that coiled and bounced. He thought of when _her_ hand was upon him, and the soft scrape of her nails. He thought of her lips, how they would stretch into a devious smirk, her statements crass and bold and unlike anything the men around him would say. And her curves, so subtle and soft, yet still firm when he gripped at her hips.

He _hated_ how much he thought of her.

Even if Xanthe had lied to him, there had to be some shred of truth in her accusation. Karina had used him before to obtain information, and he would be a fool to believe that she was completely honest with him. If she truly were against Caesar, why _wouldn’t_ she use him? And with how close he’d been keeping her as of late, he’d managed to play right into her hands. He’d fallen for that siren song, telling her things that she could very well turn and give to Cassius.

Antony stuck out his cup, waiting for a servant to fill it with wine.

 _Cassius, the pompous prick_. The name made his lips twist in disgust. At first, he thought him pathetic, but _now?_

He saw the way he looked at her, how he lusted after her. The boy would act sweet and smitten, completely enamored by the princess of Gaul, but Antony knew better. He saw right through it. Cassius was craftier than he had once presumed.

When Cassius approached him about Karina being taken by Aquila, it was well after she had escaped the Legate. It had confused him at first, how he pleaded for her hours after her arrest. At the time, Antony had assumed that Cassius didn’t know that she had gotten away, for he, himself, had only known because of whisperers and spies. It was only now that he believed Cassius had come on his own volition, using this to further incentivize Karina to act against him. He could just see the whimpering whelp tell her how he refused to come to her aid, and how it was _Cassius_ who used his influence to try and help her. Because Cassius was _good_ and _kind_ and _so_ unlike Antony and mean old Caesar. It was _Cassius_ who could help with her revenge. It was _Cassius_ who cared for her.

Antony took another swig of wine.

He remembered how that boy had gripped Karina’s hand on the first day of Vulcanalia, that sniveling pup who begged for her attention, all while Antony had _his_ arm around her. But she had looked at Cassius and _smiled_ and she _didn’t pull away_.

And what _were_ they speaking of, before he had returned to her? And that bodyguard of hers, too? Antony knew the man had to be in love with her. Despite the story Karina fed him, he knew she was to blame for Rufus’ murder, and no man would take on a crime like that if not for love. But did she feel the same for him? Or for Cassius? Who were they to her?

The loud clash of swords brought his attention back to the reenactment of the conquest of Gaul.

It was no matter, though, what their relation to Karina was. He was done with the beloved princess of Gaul. She was beautiful, and alluring, and charming, but she was but a woman. And a woman could be replaced.

Xanthe was just as suitable. She may not have the same wit, but she was just as desirable. Any man would be envious to have a beauty like her on his arm. He just needed to bed her, Antony decided. Get _her_ out of his system. If whores couldn’t rid him of Karina, then perhaps another one of Lena’s should do the trick.

The fighting in the pits came to an end, the last Gallic man struck to the ground.

Antony stood from his seat, casting his arms out wide. “And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the conquest of Gaul!”

The crowd roared in response, the sound echoing throughout the arena. Antony let it linger, relishing their excitement, before holding up a single hand. They stilled, awaiting him. “And now, a short break as we prepare for our main event, single combat!”

Antony returned to his seat, kicking his feet up as he leaned back. He turned to Xanthe, a sly grin on his face. “And what did you think of this fine reenactment?”

Xanthe moved herself closer, angling it so her breasts pushed against him. They were nice, he thought idly, but they weren’t as shapely as _hers_. “I thought it was _wonderful_ ,” she told him, her voice syrupy and much too sweet. “It must have been so _exhilarating_ to actually fight there. Such a thing would really get the blood pumping, wouldn’t you say?” Xanthe stroked her hand down towards his lap. “I would love to see _you_ out there in the ring.”

He smirked, eyes flicking away from her. “I only fight for the glory of Rome, my dear.”

“I _know_ ,” Xanthe began to say, but soon, Antony couldn’t hear the rest of it.

He could only see _her_.

She was resplendent, draped in shimmering gold with soft curls resting on purple hues. The fabric hugged her, showing the vivacious curves. As his eyeing came up to her face, she grinned, baring her teeth like pearls. And when he looked at her gaze, finally seeing those brown doe eyes rimmed by thick lashes, she _winked_.

She was no mere woman. She was more beautiful than Venus Herself.

Karina ran that pink tongue across her plump lips, leaving them glistening and wet. Her hand trailed upward from her hips and to that precious mouth of hers. Then she blew him a kiss, mouthing the words _“Miss you.”_

People were watching, whispering at how he gawked at her, but he didn’t care. Let them talk. They didn’t matter. He could only see _her_.

“The plebs are getting restless,” Xanthe said, cutting through his thoughts. Her once lascivious smile was now turned into a sneer. “Are you going to announce the next fight?”

Antony looked at the courtesan beside him, finally tearing his gaze away from Karina. He blinked twice, letting out a low puff of breath. Then he pulled himself into a stand once more, looking everywhere but at her. “And for our first single fight,” he bellowed, “it will be the _Ludus Aquila_ against the _Ludus Flavius_. I present Syphax the Slayer and Euthymios the Greek!”

The men gave their salute and Antony looked to Karina again, but she had already gone. When he turned around Xanthe was still frowning, simmering in her anger.

“I don’t even know why she bothered to show up,” Xanthe scoffed. “It seems like she can’t keep even Cassius around her.”

Antony raised a brow. “Cassius, you say? He was supposed to accompany her today?”

She nodded. “I overheard she and Lena talking about it. It’s good thing, though. That one’s _rotten_. She’s probably the whole reason why he’d be against Caesar in the first place. She may look like us, and talk like us, but she’ll never _be_ one of us. She’ll never be a _true_ Roman. Once a savage always a savage.” Xanthe smiled again, rubbing at his shoulder. “But you were smart enough to see right through her and her wicked schemes.”

“Yes, yes.” Antony waved her off. He tucked his chin into his palm as he stared out at the fight.

He hated this. He hated how he didn’t know what she was thinking. He hated that it may have been a game all along. He hated how he didn’t suspect anything sooner. He hated how his lust for some woman could have brought damage to his friend. And he _hated_ how, even still, he kept thinking of her.

He was wrong, Antony realized. There were no women like her. Only her.

She was fun, her flirtations and her company — no woman had captivated him like she did — but he had told her once that she wouldn’t like it if she tried to manipulate him so, and he would keep his word. If she wanted to play these games, he would win.


End file.
